To Breathe Again
by Yesm777
Summary: It's a perfect storm of bad luck with bullets, railings, and ice water. And for a moment, the team thinks this is how Adam Dalton ends. Not a death fic. Adam whump.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: That's right, folks. I've got another story. Hopefully, it's a good one, so please enjoy. :)_

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**Chapter One**

"Top!" Jaz screamed, already raising her weapon.

But it was too late.

And in an instant, reality seemed to explode.

Five weapons went off all at once. Six gunshots echoed over the quiet expanse of trees. Four bullets tore through the enemy shooter, dropping him immediately.

And two hit Adam directly in the chest plate.

The blow propelled him over the edge of the balcony, his expression a mix of alarm, pain, and breathlessness.

"Top!" Jaz yelled, already running to the railing. She peered over the edge, staring down into the dark, murky water of the lake. It was only one story up.

But Adam had just taken two to the chest.

She looked back at her teammates, seeing the raw, worried fear in their eyes. They knew what a hit to the chest plate did to a person. It knocked every puff of air out of you, and for a moment, your lungs forgot what it meant to breathe.

And when they finally remember how, all you can do is inhale heavy lungfuls of air.

Air, not water.

Adam had just fallen into a lake.

Without saying a word, the four of them rushed down the side steps of the building, sprinting desperately toward the private dock. Jaz and McG were already ripping off their heavy gear, boots, and jackets by the time they were running across the wet wood surface. Frantic, Jaz adjusted her headlamp and jumped right into the freezing water of the lake.

Tiny, chilled needles poked into every pore of her body, and she had to fight the tight gasp in her throat. It was already fairly cold outside, but the immense change in temperature was a shock to the system.

Hastily pushing past the painful ache all over her body, she tried to focus on the task at hand: Top. He was worth the icy prickles and numb appendages. They had to find him, frostbite be damned.

She forced her stiff limbs to swim downward, her headlamp streaming light into the cloudy depths. How could she find Top in this? She could hardly see four feet in front of her.

Determined, she swam further toward the bottom, scouring the muddy floor of the lake. He had to be here. He had to be close.

Then she saw it. A familiar, tightly laced boot in the dark.

And attached to it was an unmoving Adam Dalton.

Running out of air, Jaz quickly kicked to the surface, hungrily gulping oxygen before diving under again. Without a thought, she swam to the bottom, rushing to his side. Immediately, she started pulling off the heavier gear to prep him for the trip to the surface. She had to hurry, but she couldn't risk being pulled back down by too much weight.

As she finished pulling off his chest plate, another light fell over the team leader. Jaz looked up. McG.

Relieved to have the extra muscle, she grabbed one of Adam's arms as he did the same on the other side. Without another wasted moment, they kicked off the bottom, tugging Adam along with them.

And as they broke the surface coughing and spluttering, Adam didn't move. He flopped lifelessly in their arms, frozen and unresponsive.

Jaz could feel her heart stutter as she watched Preach and Amir pull the blond onto the dock. Top's lips were blue. An unnatural shade of blue.

"He's not breathing," Preach reported, his fingers already checking for a pulse.

McG hoisted himself out of the water, shivering in the chill of the evening. "Start chest compressions."

Amir didn't need to be told twice. Immediately, he placed his hands over Adam's breastbone and pressed down, following a practiced rhythm as he counted urgently under his breath.

Jaz swiftly swam toward one side of the dock, looking up at a lifeless hand hanging over the wooden edge. It flopped with every compression, limp and pale. Eager to have eyes on her team leader, she clamped frozen fingers on the dock surface, determined to pull herself up.

Seeing her struggle, Preach quickly came to her aid, helping her out of the cold water and onto the dock. Her body seized in the chilling open air, but she forced her head to the side to watch Amir work tirelessly to bring Adam back to life.

So far, there was nothing. Just a lifeless body moving with each compression. Adam wasn't here. Not really. Just the ragdoll he left behind.

This couldn't be happening.

"Come on, Top," Amir pleaded angrily, huffing with each press of his hands. "You can't do this."

Vaguely, Jaz heard Preach muttering a hasty report to the team in DC. But not in her ear, like usual. Her comm must've malfunctioned in the water.

She dared to lose hope. She wondered if maybe it had been too long. Too long without oxygen. Maybe this was it.

Then there was a wet cough, muffled by suffocating lake water.

A splutter.

She stiffened, eyes snapping to Adam's face.

His eyes screwed shut tighter as he hacked water from his lungs, trying desperately to clear the offending liquid.

He was alive.

Alive.

Amir quickly turned the blond to his side, gently patting the man on the back. "That's it, Top. Let it out."

Adam weakly coughed out lungfuls of water, the liquid slipping through the cracks in the dock.

And Adam's first desperate gasp was like music to Jaz's ears.

Once he'd coughed out everything he could, he curled in toward his chest, shivering violently. She could only imagine how he felt. Two bullets right in the chest plate were enough. Adding chest compressions, near-drowning, and freezing temperatures to the whole of it . . . that had to be much, much worse. Broken ribs were sure to be involved.

Shivering alone would be excruciating.

Jaz pulled on her dry jacket, eyes glued to the drenched and shivering team leader. He was out of it; she could tell. His body had taken more trauma than it could ever account for. And keeping a clear head through that much pain, exhaustion, and discomfort was nigh impossible. Even for someone as strong and driven as Top himself.

She watched Preach give up his own jacket, attempting to pull Adam's chilled arms through the sleeves.

But something wasn't right. She could hear something, hidden behind whispering trees and the faint lap of water at the shoreline.

Jaz listened intently, her brow furrowed.

Engines. That's what it was. She could hear vehicles rolling over gravelly dirt roads.

The team wouldn't be alone for long.

"We have to go," she urged hoarsely. "We'll have company soon if we don't move now."

McG looked up at her announcement, alarmed. He was in the middle of wrapping a wool blanket around the frozen blond, his own frigid fingers still trembling.

"Preach, Amir. Grab Top. He's going to need some help out of here." McG's voice shook, overtaken by cold. Jaz could relate.

McG rushed to put on his coat and boots, the other two men pulling the frozen team leader off the dock. Adam was still majorly disoriented, coughing weakly as he stumbled heavily over his feet. His eyes fluttered as he shivered violently, barely able to move on his own. To be honest, they were impressed he could even manage this much.

As they rushed off the dock and into the safety of the dark forest, Adam's heavy breaths turned to heaving wheezes, painful and raw. They tried to take it easy on hilly terrain, but the hike quickly took a toll on the team leader.

"Top, I hate to say it, but you've got to be a little quieter," McG whispered, glancing back at the lake house.

Partly more aware than before, Adam offered a tired nod as he forcefully suppressed the hoarse gasps of air. It was painful to watch. They could only guess how much pain he was in already with injured ribs and the ache of a freezing near-drowning. Having to fight his lungs' desperate pumping for air seemed like torture.

Amir and Preach dragged Adam between them, wary that the blond was rapidly losing his strength over the short trek. Jaz and McG were struggling as it was, and they had less excuses.

"He's not doing great, McG," Preach reported quietly, his whispers hidden by the rustle of tree leaves. Adam's head was starting to droop, succumbing to unconsciousness.

McG glanced back, pushing his own stiff limbs onward. But he didn't say anything.

Beside him, Jaz pulled her jacket tighter, looking over her shoulder as she shook in the shadows. Adam looked awful. Shivering, pale, exhausted. He looked like a lukewarm corpse. She turned her eyes to McG.

"Is he going to be okay?"

The medic pursed his lips, staring into the trees, a steady tremble running through his body. "I think so. I'll know more when I can actually examine him. He needs warmth. And probably some decent rest."

She nodded, pulling her collar higher for extra warmth.

They hiked along for another ten minutes, the four of them listening to Top's boots continuously scuff the forest floor as his lungs struggled to keep up. It was unbearable.

But it was better than what they'd seen on the dock. At least he was here. Alive. Doing _something_.

The old SUV they were using came into view, far enough away from the lake house to not pose a threat. McG pointed at the front of the car, looking directly at Preach and Amir. "Front passenger."

Obediently, the two helped Adam into the passenger seat, Preach pulling the coat and blanket tighter around the blond. Preach volunteered to drive, climbing in and turning on the engine immediately as the rest of them piled in the back of the SUV.

Settling into the middle seat, Jaz rubbed at her freezing arms. Preach cranked up the heat as high as it would go, putting it on full blast. It already felt like heaven on her frigid fingers. In the front, Adam was listing to the side, nearly resting on the passenger door. It wasn't going to be an easy ride back to their hideout. The road was bumpy, littered with potholes and tree roots. Jaz could only wince in sympathy.

The car started its journey across rough terrain, and the heat of the cab licked at Jaz's skin. Even now, she was cold. And she hadn't even inhaled lungfuls of ice water. Pulling her knees to her chest and crossing her arms, she looked over at McG. He was still quivering, like her. Probably would until they got a hot shower and some dry clothes. So . . . probably not anytime soon. At least as far as the hot shower went.

Besides, Top was the priority.

She looked at their leader. He was fully leaning against the door now, passed out. The SUV bounced over divots and bumps, slowly crawling its way through the expanse of trees. Adam's body jerked with each movement, slack with unconsciousness.

What she would give to see him stand strong. To hear him congratulate them on another job well done.

But even though this mission was officially a success, was it really a win?

No. It wasn't. At least not yet.

"We're heading back to our hideout, and we made it out safely," Amir reported, clearly talking to Control. "We'll know more about Top's condition when we get there."

Jaz looked at Amir as he finished his verbal report. In the many minutes it took to hike to the SUV, she'd already forgotten about the DC team. Without a working comm, it was easy to get distracted by the present. She could imagine the hidden worry in the deputy director's normally professional tone. Top was more than an operative to Patricia. He was a friend.

So as far as fear went, she was right there with them.

But it didn't make any of this better.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Just a warning, there is one f-bomb (and the ol' "s" word) in here. So if that's alarming to you, I am sorry! But thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews. I'm glad people can find a little joy in these stories after the untimely show cancellation._

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**Chapter Two**

Amir and Preach carefully pulled Adam from the truck, mindful of his ribs. He was still out cold, but a bit warmer from the heat of the cab. It was progress. Though not as much as Jaz would've liked.

They made their way to the abandoned shack they'd taken up residence in, Top's boots dragging along the dirt. If only Amir was a little taller.

Jaz looked up when she felt a hand on her shoulder. McG smiled at her, though it was small and sad.

"Why don't you try and start a fire. I think we could all use a little warmth until evac comes."

She nodded, making her way into the small house. The fireplace seemed to be in decent condition, though a bit ashy. Using her hands, she cleared away as much ash as she could manage, looking around for any leftover firewood or kindling.

No luck.

Rubbing a little warmth into her arms, she wandered outside, scanning for any useful materials. She could hear the mutter of conversation behind her. Though the window glass was broken and nearly gone, she couldn't make out what they were saying. Wasn't sure if she wanted to.

Her mind kept drifting back to the lifeless hand hanging over the edge of the dock. Jerking with each compression. Not moving. She shivered.

How close had it been?

And this time, he hadn't even taken risks. It was just bad luck.

Bad luck.

That's what it always was, wasn't it? Her best friend died because of bad luck. He hadn't done anything stupid. He'd followed protocol.

But this job . . . it took without prejudice.

Jaz pressed a hand to her eyes. Her mind played it over and over. Adam's face as the bullets struck him. The almost silent fall over the railing. His foot—the last visible part of him—disappearing into the darkness. Had he known what was ahead?

Even watching him curl into himself was painful. Her ribs ached at the thought.

She kept gathering suitable sticks, blinking away the burn in her eyes.

Clearing her throat, she stood tall, cold still biting her bones. This wasn't the time to wallow. This wasn't the _job _for wallowing. Things happened. She'd made peace with that a long time ago.

So the feelings would have to wait. Until the job was done. Until they were back to safety. Until she was alone on her bunk.

Jaz walked back to the rundown house, her arms full. For now, she'd just focus on contributing.

Adam was in dry clothes when she returned, and he was settled on the floor with a makeshift pillow under his head. McG was draping the wool blanket over him when she moved to make a fire.

"How's he doing?" she asked, her voice low. Strong.

"He's warmer, but we'll just have to keep an eye on him for now." McG tucked the blanket around their leader while Amir helped. "He does have a lot of bruising on his chest, but that's to be expected."

There was a small cough and a groan. The whole team stopped, looking down at their leader.

"Top?" McG coaxed. Jaz wondered if he was holding his breath like she was.

And for a minute there was just quiet. Electric, emotional quiet.

Then blue eyes opened to slits, staring at the dim ceiling.

Jaz allowed herself a small sigh of relief, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

She continued with her task, amassing a bit of wood and kindling to get a fire going. It took everything in her to push aside the itch to be right there. Right next to him with everyone else. But they needed a fire, so she had a job to do.

"How're you feeling, buddy?" McG asked, a firm hand on Adam's arm.

There was no response. Jaz looked over her shoulder to quiet the flutter of panic in her chest. He was fine. At least fine enough. Just struggling to get himself together.

She returned to her task.

"C-cold."

His voice was scratchy. Low. Bewildered with a bit of frustration: it was just like Top. So he wasn't so far gone.

"Not surprised," McG countered with a small laugh. "Just glad you're with us."

Jaz could hear soft coughs as she sparked her lighter by some kindling. It took some time, but she managed to get it lit and fanned it a little to encourage it. Underneath her coat, clothes hung wetly on her small frame, cold and uncomfortable. But Top was first priority. This fire was first priority. Dry clothes could wait.

There were scuffs behind her as McG moved around, shifting a little. "How's your breathing? Good? Strained?"

"Fine," came the hoarse reply.

McG chuckled. "There he is. That's the Adam Dalton I know. Stubborn as hell and always fine."

Jaz smirked to herself. If that didn't describe Top to a tee, she wasn't sure what would.

Satisfied with the newly lit fire, Jaz turned around.

Adam was still remarkably pale. But he looked less miserable. Mostly because he was determined to pretend none of this was happening.

Probably wouldn't last long, but she'd commend him for trying. He was already losing consciousness.

"Gave us a scare, Top," Preach said with a smile. This was a scene Jaz was familiar with. Everyone pretended it hadn't been as bad as it really was. They pretended that Adam hadn't been—for a moment—completely void of life. They'd chuckle lightheartedly to keep the hollowness at bay.

To forget that today . . . today they nearly lost a leader and a friend.

"M' r'bs h'rt," Adam slurred, eyes already closed.

McG patted his knee. "We'll talk about that later. Get some sleep." His words fell on deaf ears, Adam already sunk into unconsciousness.

Jaz silently wished he'd stay awake longer but knew it was selfish. Swallowing her own unsettled fears, she headed to McG's pack, grabbing some dry clothes from the main pocket before throwing them at the medic. "Change."

McG smiled thankfully. That was about as close to mothering as she would get, but it didn't hide the fact that she cared deeply about all her teammates. It was something they all knew but didn't talk about.

And for that, she was grateful.

Digging through her own pack, she found some fresh apparel and retreated behind the crumbling wall of what may have been a bathroom once. She was happy to have the privacy; it wasn't always a granted luxury, though she hadn't had much of a problem yet. The guys were very respectful.

They were just good men. Good people.

As she pulled a dry shirt over her head, she thought back to Amir's first week with the team. She'd been unsure. She hadn't liked him. She couldn't imagine how he could be as good as the friend she'd lost. As good as any of the guys, really.

He'd easily proven himself. And now she had immense respect for him. It made her job easier. Made it enjoyable most days.

Jaz tied up her damp hair and shrugged her jacket back on before returning to the main area. McG was already sitting near the fire in a dry shirt and pants, watching over Top with his usual serious-medic look. Amir and Preach were perched in the corner, Amir watching the fire while Preach watched his team leader.

And to Jaz, it felt like family.

She joined McG by the fire. He gave her a smile.

"So be honest: How's it looking?" she asked quietly.

He raised his eyebrows good-naturedly, huffing a breath out of his nose. "Right now? He seems okay. I'll feel better when we can get him back to base and warm. I am worried about his lungs."

"His lungs?"

McG looked at her, the brightness in his eyes dampened a little. "He inhaled a lot of water. And it wasn't exactly clean. Plus, he's probably taken some damage to his ribs. I'm worried he'll develop pneumonia, so I'm keeping a close eye."

She went quiet, glancing over at Top. He looked tired. Sick. Like he'd been through the wringer. And he had.

"What about his ribs?" she asked. McG rubbed his fists together.

"Well, it's not going to be a walk in the park," he muttered. "But not much we can do about them now."

She furrowed her brow, folding her arms. "This sucks."

"Amen."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It was nearly dawn already. Jaz had worked to keep the fire going, feeding it dry sticks through the night. Just a half hour ago, the DC team had updated them on their transport, and the guys had gone out to make sure the chopper could land in the nearby clearing.

So that had left Jaz with Adam.

He'd slept most of the night, occasionally stirring, only to go back to sleep. He was still ashen, and his cough was getting worse. She'd easily seen the lines in McG's face grow tenser as the night wore on. He was worried. And that meant she was worried.

There was another cough. Weak. Tired.

And a groan.

Jaz stopped poking the fire, looking down. Adam's eyes were open, though barely.

She was at his side in an instant. "Top?"

He looked at her, squinting. "Jaz?"

"Yeah, it's me. I'm here." She settled a hand on his shoulder. "How're you feeling?"

He frowned, closing his eyes. "Not good."

Her heart stuttered. Adam didn't admit weakness unless it was serious. "What's going on?"

"Chest hurts." He inhaled deeply, his breath rattling. "Cold."

Worried, she gently pressed a hand against his neck. He wasn't cold anymore; now he was too hot. Fever.

McG's words echoed in her head. Pneumonia. He might have pneumonia.

Damn it, why couldn't something go smoothly for once?

"Do you remember what happened?" she questioned, keeping her hand on his neck.

Eyes still closed, he thought back, trying to remember. "I . . . took two to the plate." He paused to breathe, the rattle returning. "Was there . . . was there water?" He looked up at her, eyes foggy. Unfocused. So unlike Adam.

"You could say that," she answered quietly. "You fell into a lake and . . ." She stopped, unsure if she could say it out loud. But he was staring at her questioningly, waiting.

"What, Jaz?"

She took a moment to collect her thoughts. Her courage. "You drowned." Her words cut through his fog, and she could already see that ever-present desire to protect his team from everything. From things like this.

Jaz pulled her hand away from his neck, leaving it on his blanketed shoulder. "Amir had to do compressions and it took a while. You had a lot of water in your lungs."

"Jaz, I'm fine."

His voice sounded ravaged and breathy, but he was already determined to reassure her. Like always. He could be bleeding out with only seconds to live and he'd tell them all he was fine. Always fine.

"You weren't fine," she pressed, her concern coming out hot like anger. "When McG and I pulled you out of that lake, you _weren't fine_."

Adam tugged an arm out of his blanket cocoon, reaching a shaking hand out to her. She felt his warm fingers settling on her knee, the most comforting gesture he could offer.

"I'm fine now, Jaz. I'm fine now." It was only a whisper, but somehow it calmed the raging beat of her heart.

He knew her too well. He knew how she felt behind all that righteous anger. Knew she'd thought of everyone else she'd lost in the line of duty.

And it made her feel sick knowing he was putting aside his own discomfort right now to ease her own. It should've been the other way around. Fuck, it should've been the other way around.

"I'll believe that when I see it," she challenged, listening to him breathe. Each puff of air came out as a wheeze. It hurt her lungs just hearing it.

He closed his eyes, spent. His hand slid off her knee, fingers slack and tired.

"Transport should be coming soon," she reported, pushing back her emotions. "Then I'm sure McG will want to stop at the hospital to get you checked out."

"Don't need it," he wheezed.

She leveled a displeased stare at him, shaking her head. "Do you even hear yourself? You can barely speak. And your breathing sounds like shit. If McG doesn't make you go, I will."

His blue eyes found her gaze, soft steel in the feverish fog. "I'm fine, Jaz. I'll be okay."

"Maybe. But I'm not taking any chances."

Wearily, he let his eyes slide closed as he coughed quietly.

Concern nestled in her chest. "What, giving up already?"

"M' t'red," he muttered. He was struggling to stay awake, if only to be there for her.

Jaz patted his shoulder. "Go to sleep."

And he did.

She felt helpless. For now, there wasn't much they could do but wait. They'd have to wake him up again when the chopper got there. That was going to suck.

But at least they'd be closer to their base.

Their home.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: And here is the last chapter. Sorry for the delay! As I've said, I always struggle with the recovery bit the most. But you're all fantastic and wonderful humans, always. And thank you so much for reading and reviewing._

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**Chapter Three**

The chopper had landed, and all they had to do was move Adam.

Easier said than done.

McG took a deep breath as he tapped Adam's face. They could carry him, but after a night on a hard floor, it would probably be better if he moved himself.

Adam was slow to come around, having only napped for about twenty minutes under Jaz's loyal protection.

"Time to get up, Top. Transport's here," McG explained as Adam groaned. His face was flushed with fever now, a pink tinge to his cheeks.

"'Kay," he muttered with a harsh rasp. "H'lp me up."

McG nodded, wincing internally at the task. "You got it, cap."

Grabbing Adam's biceps and bracing himself, McG pulled while Preach pushed on the team leader's shoulders. Adam let out a weak cry of pain as he pressed on, followed by a slew of painful coughs. McG frowned in concern, glancing at Preach.

Jaz and Amir jumped in to help, finally able to get Adam upright between the four of them. He looked about ready to pass out, eyelids heavy as he swayed.

"Alright, let's go," McG urged. They moved slowly toward the chopper, Adam stumbling between McG and Preach. The rattling wheezes grew heavier, coughs dotting his breathing. Jaz couldn't keep her eyes off him, watching him struggle with basic human functions. It was clearer now than ever that he was very sick and in a lot of pain. But he would never complain. It wasn't like Top to complain.

It took the whole team to get him into the chopper. Their chests ached with every pained growl from Adam, all of them knowing what even a single fractured rib could do. And by the time they got him into a seat, he was so out of breath that McG had to fasten his safety harness for him.

He was unconscious again before they even left the ground.

This was torture. The worst part of it was that they still had to get him from the chopper to the plane for a short flight back to base. McG was seriously considering postponing the flight back just to have Adam looked at as soon as possible. But he also knew Adam responded better when they were on their own base. Mostly because he hated making the team wait for him and would rebel enough to get in his own way when it came to recovery.

So against his own feelings, and the rest of the team's, McG had decided to wait until they got back to home base. He'd just have to keep a close eye.

But truly, they were all uneasy. If Top hadn't been so close to the railing, he'd simply have a wheezy chuckle and possibly a couple of cracked ribs. If only, if only, if only . . . There would be no point to thinking about it now. It wouldn't change anything.

Jaz watched Adam's head loll back and forth with every turn of the craft, his blond hair messy. She'd feel better once he had some antibiotics and twenty-four-seven medical supervision. McG was doing his best, and his best had never been anything less than top-notch, but even he had only so much at his disposal.

By the time they landed, Adam still hadn't woken up. He seemed even paler now with that feverish pink standing out on his cheeks. And his tousled blond hair made him look more disheveled and ill. McG felt guilty waking him up for the next transfer.

"Come on, Top. Just have to get to the plane now," he said quietly, gently patting Adam's shoulder.

It took a while for Adam to come to his senses. McG began unclipping his safety harness as he slowly became more aware, but even then, they could tell he was struggling to stay with it in the here and now.

"You okay, buddy?" McG asked, settling a hand on the blond's shoulder. Adam was still blinking the fog from his eyes, and he wasn't making much progress. "One more trip, Top. We just have to get to the plane, and then we'll be on our way to the hospital to fix you up, hm?" McG's brow was furrowed in worry as he held onto his CO. Maybe the hospital couldn't wait. Adam did feel pretty warm.

The blond took a deep breath, the long inhale marred by that terrible rattle. "Ch'st h'rts." Then he coughed as if to make a point, his expression tightening into a sharp wince.

McG pressed his lips together, patting Adam on the shoulder. "I know, Top. We'll take care of it soon. Promise." He felt for a temperature, nervous with what he found. His eyes found Preach, his gaze soft with concern. "Maybe we should wait on the flight home. Get him some help now."

Preach gave a brusque nod. "You know I'll never say no to that. I'll let the pilot know, and we'll get some transport. We'll take a detour. Hospital first, flight later."

Behind McG, Jaz felt a wave of relief. She'd seen Top endure plenty. Open wounds, chilly desert nights . . . even the odd dislocation. And through all that, he still kept his senses and authority for most of it. But high fevers were different. It dimmed his senses and mucked up his brain—just like everyone else—and it was rough to watch. It was so out of the ordinary, no one was quite sure how to react.

Preach spoke to the pilot, and the rest of the team could hear the man requesting a transport truck for the hospital. This was the right call. There was comfort to being on their home base, but Adam needed help now, not an hour down the road. And it wasn't like they were going to leave the hospital without him anyway. So what did it matter which base they were on?

With Adam so sick, they left him seated until the truck rolled up beside the chopper. They'd all seen the flash of sympathy in the pilot's eyes; it was probably why he let them sit there while he checked his bird over.

Anxious to get to the hospital, the four of them gingerly helped Adam out of the chopper and into the truck. He was so tired, he was like putty in their hands, limp and easy to move. He would only tense with pain every now and then, relinquishing the rare hoarse grunt.

Honestly, it didn't actually matter what base he was on at this point, he didn't have enough awareness to even recognize his surroundings.

After some struggle, they managed to climb into the back of the truck, passing Adam between them. They put him in the center of one bench, Jaz and Amir sitting on either side of him to keep him somewhat upright in his seat. McG and Preach sat on the opposite side, watching Adam carefully as the blond tightly closed his eyes with a wince. They knew he'd be peeved once he realized they'd put off their flight home for him. They'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

Throughout the ride, Jaz listened to the team leader's harsh breathing. It was so strained, she wondered if he was even getting enough oxygen. Every now and then, he fell into a weak coughing fit, automatically curling into himself as his ribs jerked. Jaz didn't know how bad his ribs were. She wasn't sure if she wanted to. But even with the slightest fracture, coughing would be painful.

Slowly, Adam's slump grew looser and looser, and Jaz saw his fall into unconsciousness even before he'd committed. Gently, she pulled him upright, her arm wrapped around his back as she took hold of his biceps. And in that moment, she felt proud. Proud to be his strength if just for a moment.

Because she was proud to be a part of this team and be something more than just tactical support.

Even now, she knew they were all holding each other up. It's what made them work so well. They weren't just strong for Top right now; they were strong for each other. This was hard for them all, but between the four of them, they could muster enough strength to carry one another.

Jaz breathed slowly through her nose, trying to get a handle on the swell of emotion in her chest. Eager to focus on anything else, she quickly realized just how warm her arm was. Adam's fever. She could feel it through his shirt and hers.

Alarmed, she looked at McG. But he knew. She could see it in his returning stare. It was probably why they were putting off their flight to home base in the first place. And Jaz couldn't help but think what it would be like to carry that kind of burden with you as a medic—all that anxiety, fear, and concern. Looking away from McG, she just focused on holding up Adam, attempting to ignore the heat of his back.

But when the truck finally slowed, she wasn't sure she wanted to let go.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Jaz was pretending to read a pamphlet. Next to her, Amir was pretending to watch the goings-on out the window. And across from them, Preach and McG pretended to take a nap. But really, they were all just waiting. No one was sleeping. No one was actually _seeing_ anything. They were just waiting. Breathing. Living. Even after a restless day of it, they waited.

And with every passing hour, things got better and better.

Adam was responding well to the antibiotics, and fortunately, none of his broken ribs had caused any complications. Yes, he had a couple of broken ribs. And some fractures. Jaz winced at the very thought. He was going to be moving slowly for a while.

There was still a slight feverish flush to his face, but the surrounding paleness was starting to fade, making way for healthier color. It was still going to be a bit before he was back to normal.

But given time, he'd fully recover.

He just had to get out of here first. And who knew how long that would be.

Impatient, Jaz glanced up from the pamphlet with a sigh, her eyes falling on slivers of weary blue. She froze.

Adam's eyes were open. Open. And clearer than they've been for a couple days.

Her heartrate spiked, and she quickly swallowed shouts of excitement. Her smile, though . . . she couldn't keep that from coming loose. "Well, look who's awake."

Amir's head snapped away from the window as Preach and McG both suddenly sat up straighter in their seats. The wait was over. Finally over.

Adam blinked slowly, his stare shifting to the ceiling as he steadily came back to the present.

"Did we make it back to base?" he asked confusedly, his voice still hoarse and quiet.

Preach rested a hand on the blond's forearm. "Not quite. Had to take a pitstop."

The team leader let out groan. "Please tell me you didn't."

In her seat, Jaz smirked. She'd predicted it'd go something like this, and she wasn't the least bit surprised.

Adam looked at Preach, sweaty hair stuck to his forehead. "It's not even a long flight back to our base."

The older man smiled with his signature patience. "I think you know why we couldn't do it."

For a moment, the two just stared at each other. From the look on Adam's face, they knew he understood exactly what Preach was talking about, though he seemed reluctant to accept the answer.

"We're just happy to see you feeling better," Preach stated, giving Adam an out from an uncomfortable topic.

"And let's add this whole incident to the long list of things to never do again," McG added, folding his arms.

"Agreed," Amir mumbled quietly. Just thinking about how many compressions he'd had to do, his arms and shoulders buzzed uncomfortably. It was not an experience he wanted to repeat anytime soon.

With a small smirk, Adam raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright . . . message received. So when am I clear to leave?"

McG didn't even hide his exasperation. "Look, buddy." He pointed a stern finger at his CO. "You're not moving until the antibiotics run their course and you've had some decent rest."

"Ah, come on, McG," Adam rasped, a look of irritation on his face.

"You may be boss most of the time, but this is my territory, and you're staying here until I say so," McG countered, his expression serious. In her seat, Jaz hid a smile behind her hand.

Grudgingly, Adam gave in, his shoulders slumping in frustration. "Okay, I read you loud and clear." He coughed a little, grimacing at the ache in his chest.

"And don't worry about us, Top. You just take care of yourself. We're happy to wait right here," Preach said smoothly, his soft patience and kindness shining through.

Adam let out a small, hoarse sigh and forced a little smile. "Thanks."

"Hey, don't be too upset, man," McG muttered with a grin. "If you actually _rest_, you'll be out of here before you know it."

At McG's tone, Adam couldn't fight the smirk.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Ah, it's good to be home," McG declared, dropping his pack to the floor. He looked back at Adam, unsurprised to find the blond hiding a wince behind a smile.

"Could've been here sooner," Adam mumbled, his voice still gravelly but stronger. He had an arm subtly wrapped around his ribs, trying to look casual. His efforts fell flat. It was as clear as day he was in pain.

"Sure," Amir replied calmly, "but I don't think you could've gotten past McG if you tried."

McG grinned as Jaz let out a laugh of her own, and a smile slipped onto Adam's face.

The medic let out a sigh, his grin fading to a smirk. "Well, a deal's a deal, Top. We did what you asked and brought you home, and now you do what I say." He leaned comfortably against the kitchen wall, arms folded. "And my first decree: you sit in that chair for at least an hour."

"I'll be honest; you don't have to tell me twice," Adam admitted, gingerly lowering himself into the team recliner. "Those plane harnesses are tighter than I remember."

While they all felt it, they hid away their sympathy. Adam wasn't looking for pity; he didn't want to be coddled. Honestly, he was probably only listening to McG to make them all feel better. In the hospital, he'd gotten some idea of how hard it all was on the team, and this was the best way he knew to make it up to them.

"How about some dinner?" Amir offered, already moving into the kitchen.

"I could use a bite," Preach answered, following the shorter man. After giving Adam a smile, Jaz did the same, heading toward the fridge for a beer.

With the rest of the team behind him, Adam closed his eyes, allowing himself to really give in to how crappy he felt. The flight home had been bumpy, and it had taken everything to keep up a strong front. His head was still foggy, and the painful, lingering cough seemed to suck his energy.

He felt a presence beside him and quickly opened his eyes to put his mask back on. He looked to his left. McG stared back at him with that soft look of concern on his face.

"How're you doing, Top?" McG's voice was low. Quiet. Hiding away from sharp ears. There was laughter in the kitchen, as if to prove they were in their own bubble.

Of course Joseph had seen him in all his worn down glory. Adam couldn't hide it now.

His smile was small and tired. "I've been better."

"You can say that again," McG chuckled. "I know you're going to say no, but I'll ask anyway: Want anything for the pain?"

The blond smirked with a huff of laughter. "Nah, I'm good."

"Yeah, I figured you'd say that." A smile. "Just glad you're on the mend." The medic gave Adam a good-natured squeeze to the shoulder and moved to stand.

"Wait."

McG stopped, looking back to Adam.

"How bad was it really?" the blond asked, eyes boring into the medic's.

For a moment, Joseph simply stared back, a swirl of emotions washing through his eyes. Terror, panic, sorrow. And from that alone, Adam had his answer.

"Bad," McG answered, the single word packed with darkness and fear. "It was really bad."

Adam's stomach dropped. He wished he knew the right thing to say, but he was at a loss.

"But you're here now, and you'll be back to full health in no time," McG added, patting the team leader on the back. "Sit tight. I'll get you some water."

Holding back a cough, Adam watched him go, settling further in his chair. Despite everything, he was amazed by the strength and drive of his team. And he was impressed by how smoothly they worked together when the going got rough.

And while he hated that they had to fight through their own emotions and his poor health to get the job done, he couldn't be prouder of them. It only reaffirmed how much he could trust them and how capable they were.

Not that he needed reminding.

He listened to the chorus of chuckles behind him, the smell of garlic wafting through the room. If they had to, they could get out of a dangerous situation without him.

But today . . . Today, they were okay. Today, he was here.

The darker things could wait until tomorrow.

_Fin._


End file.
